Female Troubles – Candy Land is dandy land

Ever try to corral 22 2-to-5-year-olds dressed up as giant M&Ms in a 3-foot by 12-foot hallway? Did I mention they had to be in a particular order? Did I mention they had to be quiet?

Jean Wood of Montague

Ever try to corral 22 2-to-5-year-olds dressed up as giant M&Ms in a 3-foot by 12-foot hallway? Did I mention they had to be in a particular order? Did I mention they had to be quiet?

Oh yeah … it's pitch black.

Every year we undergo what is known in our house as Dance Mania. No, it's not a reality show we TiVo – it's one that we are cast in by none other than a sassy local Brit whom I lovingly call the Great Duchess of YMCA Dance in an effort to appease the toe-tapping dreams of our darling daughter.

A few years ago the Great Duchess thrust me into the backstage life of a production and assigned me to a small group part she informally calls "the runner," which I should have known really meant "the run-for-your-lifers." At the time I was enamored with the accent and merely consented because I thought she was Mary Poppins. I know better now … she's Madame Judi Dench if ever there was.

The people who work to put one of these performances on could easily be mistaken for Seal Team Six. It takes prowess to change a squirming cherub into a tutu and leotard in less than 30 seconds. It takes speed to sort gumdrops into color piles like its family movie night and dexterity to dodge giant running Hershey bars while they're flying past you to a dressing room.

In short, you need cajones and big ones too. One might think it's an estrogen fest back there behind those dark curtains but even swans can be aggressive creatures if provoked. (Side note: NEVER touch a pair of nude tights that aren't yours, it's a felony in Candy Land.)

These backstage jobs are not for the faint of heart and every time I do it, I can't help but feel under qualified. I mean, the first year I just kind of stood there with my mouth open and had PTSD for a few months after. My (then) 4-year-old knew what she was doing more than I did.

This year, I had my mom (because I couldn't even do it myself) sew the sequin trim on her Lollypop costume backwards which indecently exposed her chest. Apparently there is a front and back to those spandex body traps after all and without the benefit of dress rehearsals, this year's performance wouldn't have been rated "G" thanks to me.

I keep thinking the Great Duchess will fire me for my repeated gaffes but my name still pops up on her helpers list every fall. I finally convinced myself that I am her adult entertainment and due compensation for putting up with my "little boss" on a weekly basis.

This season I clipped on my mini Maglite with pride and navigated through the candy isle as best I could. Why you ask? Because to my daughter I am, and always will be, just Mom and through the years she will look around in our community for role models and she couldn't do better than those characters she finds on the journey to the YMCA's Candy King's Grand Ball.

She might never dance at Juilliard but the Great Duchess, her Brave Little Tailor and all the helpers have never treated her any differently for it … and that's the sweetest truth.

– Female Troubles is written by author Jean Wood. Email her at wildwoodstyleco@gmail.com.